


Ma'toi, Lak'tra, heh Sierra Nevada

by KiyoshiTanaka



Series: Baby Bump [13]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:51:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6145156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiyoshiTanaka/pseuds/KiyoshiTanaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All life comes to an end.  That is something Spock can accept.  What he struggles with is the fact that his father is only 157 years old, too young to die by Vulcan standards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ma'toi, Lak'tra, heh Sierra Nevada

**Author's Note:**

> The title means "Death, Grief, and the Sierra Nevada."
> 
> For reference purposes, Sarek is 157, Spock is 93, and Jim is 90.
> 
> I really intended on posting this at the same time as a happier story in this universe, but oh well. Sorry guys.
> 
> KiyoshiTanaka

“He is only one hundred and fifty seven,” Spock said. “He should not be dying.”

McCoy glared at him. “Well he _is_ , Spock, and there’s nothing else for it. And as far as I can see, there’s no outside cause. His systems are just shutting down like they would in old age. Consult a Vulcan doctor if you want, but that’s my conclusion. And when the body starts shutting down like this, there isn’t a hell of a lot you can do to stop it.”

Spock’s jaw tightened. He and his father had had a tense relationship for many years, rooted in Spock’s decision to join Starfleet rather than attend the VSA. However they had set aside their differences when Mother had died. And when Astraea and the triplets were born, and when T’Risa and Spock’s other grandchildren came along—every time another child was born, he and his father grew closer. Spock would never admit it to Jim, but he was more than aware that he and his father were the two most responsible for spoiling their grandchildren. And taking all that into consideration, he didn’t want his father to die.

It was so Human, this affection for his father. Life ended; that was a fact. Logically, Spock knew his father would die someday, likely before him. But he wasn’t ready for it, not now. He had been so sure he’d have another fifty years, at least.

Spock turned and went back into his father’s hospital room. “ _Sa-mekh_ ,” he said.

Sarek smiled. It was still small and nearly nonexistent, but considering his entire family was at least part-Human—in-laws excluded, and one of those was a species even more emotional than Humans—Sarek had given in over the years, caving to his family’s desire to see what he was feeling. He still always justified it with logic, a fact that amused Jim to no end, but he hid it less and less with each passing year.

Except he wouldn’t see another year. Another month was unlikely.

“Spock,” his father said, “It is acceptable. I have had a good life. Not necessarily a long one, but a good one. Is a long life really worth it if you accomplish nothing? I do not believe so. But I have accomplished much. I was a successful scientist at the Academy. Then I was an efficient diplomat. And then I did the greatest thing of all—I fell in love with the most beautiful woman the universe could ever offer, had a son with her. I watched you grow and become your own man and I have four amazing granddaughters because of it. I have six wonderful great-grandchildren. I have three great-great-grandsons and I have a great-great-granddaughter on the way. It is not what I imagined my life to be when I was growing up, but I have no regrets.”

Spock nodded. “I understand.”

Sarek looked at him for a while and then said, “Spock, I know this will be hard for you to hear, but being bonded to a Human, I hope you can understand.”

“ _Sa-mekh_?”

“I do not wish to transfer my _katra_ to you.”

Spock braced himself and asked, “Why?”

“My body is failing because I have been so long without my true bondmate,” Sarek said. “And I don’t wish to go on without your mother any longer. I do not know if her belief in an afterlife is true. If it is, I will see her again. If it is not, and there is nothing after this life, then at least I will be freed of the pain of losing her. But if I transfer my consciousness into you, I will never have that peace.”

Spock swallowed. “That is… logical,” he whispered.

§§§

“Spock,” Sarek rasped. “Jim. I have a few requests.”

“Whatever you need, Sarek,” Jim said.

“ _Pukeshta svi’khio’rilar_ , could you leave?” Spock’s father asked. “I wish to speak with your parents alone.”

“Of course, _Sa’mekh’al_ ,” Astraea said, rising and leaving the room.

“Jim, you will likely understand better than my son,” Sarek said. “Interment in a family crypt is customary for the body of a Vulcan after death. I wish to be cremated and have the ashes spread in the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range.”

“ _Sa-mekh_ ,” Spock said.

“Spock,” Jim said softly. “Sarek, why there?”

“Amanda loved those mountains,” his father said. “I wish we had visited more often, but they always felt so cold to me.”

“ _Sa-mekh_ , you wish to break with tradition?” Spock asked.

“Yes,” Sarek said. “There is no longer a family crypt. I know I will not be around to see that you honor these requests. I just hope you do.”

“We will,” Jim promised.

After his father fell asleep, Spock asked, “Why did you promise him we take his ashes to the Sierra Nevada Mountains? It is illogical to desire to have one’s remains in a specific place. Funerals, graves, and monuments are to honor the dead, but serve more as a comfort to the living. Is it not logical to have the remains in the place where they give the most comfort to the family the individual has left behind?”

“Spock,” Jim said, his face tired. “Do you realize that your father went on for more than sixty years because of you and our children? If not for you, he would have killed himself.”

“My father would never have done something so illogical.”

“He would have,” Jim argued. “He hides it well, buries it so deeply I doubt you’ve noticed how constantly he feels the loss. But he has missed your mother for more than sixty years. He wants to be close to her in any way he can. Even if it’s just the symbolic spreading of his ashes in one of her favorite places. And would you truly be happy if you didn’t honor his dying wish? Funerals are for the living, plenty of people have said that, and it’s true enough. But to honor the loved one’s wishes—that will bring more comfort than denying them. It’s one last act of love.”

Spock’s throat tightened as he nodded. Jim made sense. He would do as his father asked.

§§§

As they watched the ashes float on the breeze, Spock said, “Our lives have followed parallel courses, _Ashalik_.”

“How do you mean?” Jim asked, lacing his fingers through Spock’s, sending him comfort and love and so many things Spock was still unable to define, even after sixty two years of marriage.

“We each lost a parent and a brother. You were no closer to your brother than I was to mine, so that loss was tolerable for both of us. Then over the years, after those deaths, we each mended our relationship with our surviving parent, the parent we never shared a close bond with. And after a time, we lost that parent as well, a parent we only grew close to in adulthood.” Spock knew it wasn’t exactly the same, since Jim had never met his father, and Spock had loved his mother, no matter how rarely he had told her. But it was still the loss of a parent.

“Yes,” Jim said. “That’s true.”

“How did you… how did you deal with it?” Spock asked. “With this pain, the pain of knowing your parents are both gone?”

Jim smiled. “You have to let it hurt. It’s hard and painful, but if you ignore it, it won’t heal. Ignoring it is like putting a Band-Aid on something that needs a dermal regenerator. It might hold it together and hide it, but it doesn’t make it go away. I got through it because I had you and our girls and their kids to lean on. You have us too, and you don’t need to be ashamed of your pain.”

Spock nodded. “I know. I just… I don’t know how to feel it. I never thought I would grieve my father. Death is unavoidable, so fearing it is illogical. So grieving the death of someone so logical as my father also seems illogical. And yet…”

“The pain will pass, Spock,” Jim said, leaning into him. “You’ll always miss him, but you’ll learn to live with it. You’ll cherish the good memories rather than focusing on the pain. And you’ll heal.”

“How long will that take?”

“Everyone grieves differently,” Jim said softly. “You remember how I grieved? I was angry at the world for months. I can’t tell you how to grieve and I can’t tell you how long it will take.”

“I wish it could be finished now,” Spock said.

“So do I,” Jim said. “But grief doesn’t work that way.”

After a few minutes, Spock said, “These mountains truly are beautiful.”


End file.
